What If Jamie Lived?
by Fatalic Wolf
Summary: REPOST Hermione is raped by someone she knows and decides to keep the baby. how does this impact her Hogwarts life, and what about Harry? what happens when a close friend is also raped? By the same guy? HHr Dedicated to a friend of mine. Ch. 9 edited & up
1. The Night It All Went Wrong

**Disclaimer****: I, Bridget Paloumar own only the plot of this story, Jamie and Jennifer (Jenny) Granger** (as I have her in this story, not as she is in the _Meant to Be_ series as she is property of the fan fiction author JennyGranger there)**, Eric Hanson, and any other characters I create. The familiar HP characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling, and song lyrics are property of their respective artists. Now, with the boring stuff out of the way, enjoy!**

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_**The Child You Never Knew About**_** II: **

_**What If Jamie Lived?**_

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**Chapter 1: **_**The Night It All Went Wrong**_

_In a dank, musty basement, a young girl of about 13 sat huddled in a corner, to some extent hidden by a pile of decomposing boxes. Mold-covered documents spilled messily out of the disintegrating squares of cardboard, slime coated the walls, and the only light came from a single light bulb dangling from a cable from the mold-coated ceiling. Papers littered the coarse cement floor, littered with snippets of coloured cloth, cellophane wrappers, books, and a few pop cans that had spilled from several large, black plastic garbage sacks. An old cracked bookcase sat in the corner about a foot ahead of the girl, partially blocking her from the view of anyone looking for her. Some chairs were lying around the room haphazardly, as well. There were boxes by her side, making her hiding place uncomfortably cramped. Still she stayed._

_The young girl shivered miserably, but didn't dare to move. She sat as a rabbit does when he knows a hawk is after him, like a small creature trying to avoid its relentless predator. She had her long, dark hair held securely out of her eyes in a black hair tie. Her eyes a deep, dark brown in colour, were quite large with trepidation. Her name was Hermione Jane Granger. She was in the corner not of her own free will, but trapped there by a man she had thought she could trust, a man with whom she would have laid her life in his hands without a second. Hermione had known this man since she was a mere infant, he was a trusted family friend and yet, a friend no longer._

_He, Eric Hanson, had always seemed like a father to her, a replacement for the father that was rarely around for her. Yet, here he was, cornering her and trying to hurt her; that much she was sure of. He was putting her in a position in which she knew she was in danger. The 13-year-old choked back frightened tears as she sank further down in her hiding place to avoid being seen by Eric. Even though he kept calling out to her and telling her to come out, everything was okay, she knew nothing was okay in the least._

_She was afraid of him; he could kill her if he wanted to. Matter of fact, he could do pretty much anything he damn well pleased with her for the simple reason that nobody was around to hear anything: her parents were away on muggle business, their neighbors off at some fancy party. There was no hope for her; this was the end of her. _

_Her small body was hard-pressed into the damp, slimy corner as firmly as she could push herself into it. His intimidating, massive shadow loomed over her, threatening her. Her body shook even harder with her barely controlled terror. What would he do to her? Where had that caring, father-like figure gone to? What was wrong with Eric?_

_She soon knew what was wrong with him as he bent down towards her, eyes gleaming like polished glass in the dim light. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, see his bloodshot eyes. She quivered even more as he reached out with on e of his hands and she felt it close like a vise around her thin wrist. Panic was about to set in, but she refused to acknowledge it – her life depended on it. She felt sick._

_"Come here, bitch!" he roared, his fetid breath making her feel still sicker._

"_Eric, no! Think about what you're doing!" Hermione pleaded ineffectively._

"_Shut up, you fucking bitch! You're a useless little whore, you realize that? What's a damn little slut going to do to me, call all your slutty friends on me? Like hell you will, because I won't let you live, you hear me? You're going to die, you little bitch! You're just a fucking little whore, and you know it!" he screamed at her, rage showing in his crazed eyes._

_Hermione didn't know what he was talking about, but she was smart enough to know to let him scream at her, that it was better he screamed than tried to kill her now. If only she had known at that point what was in the making for her…_

_He beckoned to her angrily, but she stayed where she was, lying in a heap on the cold cement floor. He screamed at her again, hit her cruelly upside her head, and ordered her to get up again. She painfully peeled herself away from the slime-coated wall and took a diffident step towards him. She thought that maybe if she did what he said, somehow she would be okay, but she wasn't that lucky. As she drew near him, he swung his arm out yet again, knocking her over and out as her head made contact with the hard, unforgiving floor._

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_Hermione awoke some time later on the floor of the basement. As she tried to open her eyes, pain seared through her head, causing her to nearly black out. The pain was fierce and unmerciful. She nearly cried out from it, but instinct told her to remain still and quiet. The basement was dark, she realized as she slowly came back to consciousness. _

_As she became aware of her surroundings, she wished she could just pass out again. It seemed that there was not a single inch of her body that didn't hurt. Biting back the pain and nausea, Hermione slowly sat up. She waited for what seemed an eternity for the world to stop lunging and spinning around her, but it was a long wait, as though the world was forever just one big swirl of terrifying pain._

_For awhile, Hermione wondered if this was death. Eric said he was going to kill her – had he? After a good deal of time had passed, she could see a few vague shapes in the dark. She wished desperately for her wand, but it was locked in her trunk in her room to keep curious muggles from destroying it. Not only could she have light to see by, but it could help ease her pain. Pain seemed to be all she consisted of. As she became more coherent, she realized her inner thighs were covered in something sticky and drying. After a few more seconds, she realized the sticky substance was her own blood, which appeared to be omnipresent. _

_She fought down nausea for what seemed to be the millionth time that night and agonizingly dragged herself to her feet. She began to stumble towards the stairs and fight her way back to her room with only the thought of reaching her wand for protection of herself; screw underage magic. Besides, she definitely had a damn good reason to break the rules; she might die if she didn't._

_She was almost to the stairs when she tripped over what she thought to be Eric's out-stretched arm. Upon turning around to investigate, she discovered it was simply a musty old blanket. Eric was gone. She waited until her breathing became halfway normal and her heart quit thundering painfully against her bruised chest. Then she cautiously resumed her never-ending trip to her room and safety._

_Climbing the stairs seemed to be a never-ending chore for her bruised and torn body. There were several gashes on her body that began to bleed freely as she moved. They hurt her like hell and she had to bite her lip hard to keep from screaming. The pain was nearly unbearable, but she knew she had a bottle of pain-reliever (magical, of course) in her trunk under her robes, tucked between her various spell books._

_Each step she took sent pain twisting down her battered body, made her want to sit down, give up, and die. Tears, even though she tried to hold them back, coursed down her pale cheeks, staining her shirt with their wet trails. It seemed as though the stairs would never end, that relief would never come. It was as if she would never get to the top of the stairs, yet she did. She opened her door, got the potion from her trunk, swallowed it, locked her door, and fell on top of her bed, too sore and too upset to do any more than that._

_She lay totally lifeless on her bed, having neither the will nor the energy to move. There was no movement in her room, save for the minutes shifting on her alarm clock and the tears seeping down her cheeks, fading like ghosts into her pillow. It just wasn't fair, not for her. She was the "perfect" girl with the "perfect" life: how could this happen to her? Why had he turned against her? There just weren't any answers, not tonight, anyway._

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**Author's Note****: For those of you who are new to this ("The Child You Never Knew About") series, here a few things about this series. First off, this is the second story in the trilogy, the first being "The Child You Never Knew About". Secondly, parts of this story actually happened in my own life; the rape, the threat, the suicidal thoughts, the self-harm, the fear & other emotions. Unfortunately, to this day the guys who did it walk free because I was too afraid to do anything about it until it was too late, years too late. **

**My goal in writing this series, in fact, the series' whole purpose, is to help at least one other person out there and to give readers an insider's view of this awful reality; yes, it actually happens. I have absolutely no intentions of gaining pity or anything like that, because I have learned to be a survivor of both rape and abuse. I really do hope that if you have any questions about this story or anything I may be able to answer, you'll feel free to send me a message. (I don't bite!) If you're a rape victim and just want some advice or to talk, I'm here.**

**-Bridget**

"**MysticGranger"**

"**Unknown Wolf"**


	2. Return to the Basement

**Chapter 2: **_**Return to the Basement**_

A small, fragile-looking figure lying on a large bed under a black comforter began to toss and turn as she dreamed. Her chocolate-coloured hair lay in a disarrayed cloud around her head, spilling off the pillow and over the edge of the bed. Her face carried a look of pure fear, fear so deep it would chill you to the bone as sure as an Arctic wind and twice as thoroughly. After several seconds the look of fear melted to mix with one of pain and torment as she thrashed around fighting past battles. She began to whimper and cry out, tears streaking her cheeks and soaking the covers. Dark locks of her hair were soon plastered to her face. Her semi-quiet whimpering soon began to increase into screams of terror and pleads for help that would never come, not even in her dreams.

Hermione woke up to find herself face down in her drenched pillow. Her pajamas clung to her damp body, creating a feeling of suffocation. She was shaking badly as she slowly sat up, checking in the dark for anything amiss. Upon not seeing anything, she relaxed a tiny bit. It had all been that damn nightmare yet again. Was her life never going to be right again? What was wrong with her?

Hermione stared out her darkened window at the quarter-moon beyond it, trembling vaguely as she took in the deep, impenetrable dark. The dark was her enemy forever now and it scared her almost as badly as Eric himself. She felt more vulnerable in the dark, as if Eric could just walk through the walls of her room and rape her all over again. After all, it was the darkness that had allowed Eric to rape her. She knew this wasn't true, but her mind wasn't convinced, not after what he had done to her and the pain he put her through.

Hermione bit down hard on her lower lip and fearfully turned on her light, feeling a little less exposed in its soft, warm light as she scanned the area for Eric, expecting to see him prowling in the shadows around every corner. She shuddered at the awful dream; one of the worst parts being it had actually happened and that it wasn't just a nightmare. Although she wished with all her being that it had never happened, she knew it had. She knew her life was forever changed, in a bad way. She knew she really had been all alone with Eric in the basement, he really had hit her, her parents really had been gone, the neighbours too. The worst, most shattering thought was that he actually _had_ done it. Eric, her parents' best friend, really had raped her, torn her young life apart and broken it into a zillion pieces. Nobody else knew about it, that awful night. She just couldn't bring herself to tell anyone, not even Harry and Ron. Although Ginny, too, was her friend, she just didn't want to talk to the younger girl, not about this. She wanted to tell someone so badly, yet she couldn't.

Shaking her head in a vain attempt to chase the disturbing thoughts from it, Hermione shakily edged out from beneath her warm, soft covers and put on her slippers. Even though she wasn't sure why she did it, she crept down the hall, past her parents' bedroom where she could hear her father snoring, down the stairs, took a sharp right, padded down another hall, crept down another flight of stair and turned on the light.

In front of her lay the room where she'd been to hell and back. It looked nearly the same but for a few changes. The papers that had lain on the floor covered in blood had been removed, probably by Eric himself. Chairs that had been broken in the struggle prior to the rape were upright and repaired, looking as if nothing had ever happened. There was no evidence left of that night, which she relief and disappointment at. Had she just imagined it? No, you can't imagine something that awful without it actually happening to you.

She wasn't sure why, but Hermione decided to start cleaning the basement. She ran back upstairs and into the kitchen, where she grabbed a box of trash bags and flew back down into the basement. Tears streamed down her face as she stuffed moldy documents and crumbling boxes into bag after bag. It was as though by cleaning the awful place she could clean herself of the memories and the pain. Choking sobs wracked her small frame as she threw the cellophane wrappers into the bag she was holding.

Finally she collapsed into an exhausted heap as the last paper was crammed into a bag, the bag tied off, and threw it onto the pile of other garbage bags. Tears streamed down her face and she trembled violently, screams of fear ripped from her throat as if she were an injured animal. Her mother raced downstairs to find Hermione in a fetal position, rocking and crying hysterically.

"What wrong, Hermione?" Sarah asked worriedly. She sat holding her daughter in her arms while, with one hand, she smoothed her damp hair.

All Hermione could do was cry her distress and pain out. As much as she wanted to tell her mother what was wrong, she just couldn't. It wasn't the she was afraid of her parents' reactions; she was scared of Eric's. She knew without a doubt that he would gladly kill her and wash his hands of her. He would have killed her the night of the rape, he even _thought_ he _had_, but she had somehow survived it, somehow survived him and his wrath. She could only wonder why he had decided to go after her, violate _her_, instead of some other girl he didn't know, not that she wanted him to hurt another person, either. Why did he have to rape any girl? The answer was simple – he didn't. The damn bastard just chose to do so because she was easy prey, pure and simple.

"Hermione, what's wrong, love?" Sarah repeated again as she began to become scared herself.

"What's going on?" her father, Isaac, asked as he came downstairs into the basement with them.

"I-I can't tell you!" Hermione replied through her tears as they fell even harder.

"Why can't you?" asked her dad as he settled next to her on the floor.

"Be-because he'll k-kill me!" she choked, turning even paler and crying harder than she already was

"Who, sweetie?" Sarah asked, trying to remain calm. Much as she tried, however, she couldn't keep her own fear out of her voice.

"I can't tell you!" she replied, half screaming in her panic.

"Hermione," Isaac reasoned, "we can't help you if we don't what's wrong and who did this. Look at me, honey." Her dad gently turned her tear-stained face towards his own. "Trust me. What did they do?"

"I-I, the n-night you t-two were g-gone," she began through her tears, "he-he came in-into the-the house wi-with the k-key you g-gave hi-him." She cried so hard she began to cough intensely and choke. It was hard, nearly too hard, to tell them what was wrong. "H-he was dru-drunk an-and he h-hurt m-me."

"How did he hurt you?" asked Sarah, holding her more tightly.

"He-he pulled a knife on me a-and he c-cut me," she sobbed, burrowing against her mother's comforting shoulder.

"Then what?" she asked her daughter gently as she began to calm down a little bit.

"He…he…raped me," Hermione finished in a voice barely audible.

Isaac's eyes seemed aflame when she dared to look at him. Whimpering, she shrunk down against her mother. Her parents spent a good deal longer talk to her about what had happened and finally she gave in and told them Eric had done it. The information only confirmed Isaac's suspicions. Sarah took her daughter up to bed her and sat with her, speaking nothing but gently stroking her hair until she fell asleep once again.


	3. Reality Check

**Chapter 3: **_**Reality Check**_

It was the morning after her return to the basement. Sunlight slanted through Hermione's bedroom window to sprawl across her still-sleeping face. Her nose twitched irritably in her sleep as the smell of burnt bacon came to it. She snuggled up against her pillow a little more, reluctant to awaken just yet. She began to stir a bit more as the persistent sun beam tickled her eyes and brushed her cheeks. She was slowly becoming awake. She sighed as if regretting the wonderful dream she'd just had, and she slowly sat up. She yawned and stretched before the fear returned to her as the events of the previous night flooded back to her.

"Sleep well, honey?" asked a figure in her computer chair.

Hermione jumped with an ear-splitting scream of terror. It took her a little while to realize the figure was her father, not Eric.

"That scared me," she said indignantly.

"Sorry, sweetie, but your mum wanted to know as soon as you were awake."

"Why?" she said quizzically.

"She…well, I'll let her talk to you. I'll go get her," he said, leaving the room a little faster than Hermione thought was necessary.

Hermione sighed and swung her long, tan legs over the side of her bed and pushed the covers off of herself. Her clock told her it was a little after eight in the morning, which was odd because her parents should have been at work in their dentists' offices seeing patients. She shrugged her slim shoulders and padded over to her closet to find something to wear. Upon not finding anything of interest in it, she resorted to her dresser. Inside of it she found a pair of light blue shorts and a slightly darker shirt. She walked over to her mirror after dressing in them and pulled a brush through her long mass of hair. When it was no longer tangled, she pulled it back into a long ponytail. After examining herself in the mirror she decided some silver accessories completed her.

A knock on her door announced that her mum was waiting for her. She opened it and received a hug from her mother. They both sat down on her bed, then Hermione asked why her mom wanted to know when she was up.

"Well, honey, your father and I had a discussion after you went to bed last night. We want to clear something up before you go to Hogwarts this year, so I made an appointment with Dr. Harrison earlier this morning for you," her mother said hesitantly.

"Dr. Harrison?" repeated Hermione. "Why? Isn't she an OB/Gyn?" Puzzlement crossed Hermione's face as she asked her mother the first question that came to mind.

"Yes, she is," said her mother a bit edgily.

"Why do I need to go see her? You don't really think I-"

"You said you were raped, sweetie. Use your head," replied Sarah as gently as possible.

"I still don't get it," she said in confusion.

"Let's be real about this: Hermione, you could be pregnant."

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An hour and a car ride later and Hermione was waiting nervously for the results of her pregnancy test to come back, praying for it to be negative, but even then she knew, something in her knew, that this was just a foolish wish. She chewed her semi-long nails to nubs and paced back and forth for what seemed like hours before Dr. Harrison returned. She felt her fear deepen as soon as she saw the look on the doctor's face.

"Sorry about your long wait, Ms. Granger," Harrison said apologetically as she sat down next to her on the examining table. "I had an emergency case that I had to tend to before I could come back to you with your results." Thankfully, Hermione's mom had already explained the situation to her. "I'm sorry to say this, very sorry, but your results came back positive."


	4. Frightening Realities

**Chapter 4: **_**Frightening Realities**_

"Ms. Granger? I'm going to go get your mum, will you be alright?" asked Harrison.

Hermione barely heard the doctor. All she could think about was those awful words she had just uttered_"I'm sorry to say this, very sorry, but your results came back positive."_ It just wasn't fair! She was a teenage witch attending school, a 13 not-yet-14 year old _kid_. She wasn't ready to be a mother!

For what seemed like the millionth time, tears slipped down her face, blurring her vision and making her nose run like hell. Hermione hated and despised the tears, but she was helpless to stop them from falling. She was too young, there was too much to do, too much to see! She couldn't be pregnant, it just wasn't right. Yeah, she'd wanted kids, but not so soon! What about her schooling? How was she going to be able to take care of the baby and go to Hogwarts at the same time? She didn't want to drop out, but she couldn't have an abortion, it just wasn't right. Even though it probably would have been better for the baby, she couldn't give him or her, no, _her_, up for adoption, she wasn't strong enough.

She was so scared. Most girls her age never had to deal with all of this, so why did she, what had she done wrong? What if she died giving birth to the baby? It happened, and she knew it did. She didn't want to die, but she still couldn't abort the baby, she wasn't a murderer. Panic threatened to take her over, but she managed to push it back just as the door to the room she was in creaked open.

"Hermione?" It was her mother, who walked over to her and just held her close.

Hermione could tell by the shattered look on her mother's face that Harrison had already broken the news to her. Her own heart seemed to break as the full weight of the doctor's words slammed into her like a sledgehammer to her ribs, each one shattering under the impact of the blow.

"It can't be right…she can't be right, she's wrong…I'm not ready to be a mom, I can't!" the teen cried into her mother's shoulder.

"Shh, it'll be okay, sweetie. We'll make it through…you don't have to go through with this, you know-"

"I'M NOT A MURDERER!" screamed Hermione, her tears falling harder, faster.

"I never said you were, Hermione, I'm just trying to make you realize that you have a choice. How are you going to go through school with a baby, huh? You know you can't, so don't do this to yourself. Let's schedule an appointment and get rid of it-"

"SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP! I HATE YOU! HOW CAN YOU EVEN SAY THAT! LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY!"

There was an incredible flash of light that broke Hermione's fear and anger and replaced it with sheer terror. The world had gone dark and she couldn't breathe. She was positive she was going to suffocate before everything started coming back, but she wasn't in the doctor's office anymore. Underneath her lay a bed, but not the hospital's nor her own. A snowy-white owl settled onto one of the bedposts, immediately telling her she was in a witch or wizard's room, but not her own.

"Mione, what are you doing here? I mean, _how_ did you get here?" It was Harry Potter's reassuring voice.

Despite her fear and confusion, Hermione felt a small grin appear on her face. An instant later she was hugging him as fiercely as she possibly could, causing him to choke and sputter.

"Er-my-nee! Yur-suff-ating-ee!"

"Oh, sorry Harry," she apologized, blushing something awful. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too, but what the bloody hell was that for? How _did_ you get here?" he asked his friend, gulping down air like a fish out of water.

"I'm not sure how I got here," she said truthfully, ignoring his first question.

"What the goddamn bloody hell are you doing up there, boy!" roared Harry's Uncle Vernon.

"Just talking to Hedwig!" he replied as nicely as he could while he rolled his eyes.

"Well shut the bloody hell up!" came the closing order.

"Mione, much as I would like you to stay here, you can't," Harry spoke to her in a loud whisper.

"I didn't choose to come here!" she protested in an equally loud whisper.

"Wha-"

"Last I knew, I was sitting in the bloody doctor's office an-"

"What were you doing there? You aren't sick, are you? Is that why you're here, you need help?" Harry asked worriedly.

"For the last bloody time, Harry!" she said in exasperation, "I didn't choose to come here – I just did! I'm not sick, but…I guess there is something I should tell you," she said quietly, trying not to lose her courage to tell her best friend what was wrong.

"What's wrong, Mione?" he asked, his voice a little softer as he pulled her chin up with one hand to look her in her bright hazel eyes.

"Harry…Harry, I…shortly after I got back from Hogwarts last term I…I was…raped," she finished, once again staring at the floor

There was silence in the room for several minutes as Harry tried to sort out his confusing emotions. After a while, he decided that Hermione could use some comfort, so he pulled her into a gentle embrace that spoke volumes more than any words ever could. His own tears for his friend blended with hers and, even though it was unspoken, they shared an enigmatic bond right then and there. At that moment, Hermione had her rock, her shelter she had needed so badly.

Her tear-streaked face looked up into his and she saw her own feelings for him reflected in his green eyes. For the first time since the rape she finally felt totally secure as she sat within the protective circle of her best friend's strong arms. It was the best feeling on Earth, better than any terrific grade she had gotten on a paper or accomplishment she'd made in life thus far. For the first time in her life, Hermione had someone else she could trust in and lean on, someone to look after her and, above all, protect her.


	5. The First Complication

**A/N: One of my reviewers brought up the fact that WIJL has come back as an M story instead of T as it was before the re-vamp. Mostly it had to do with some abusive scenes I intend to add, but I was also going to lengthen the first flashback in the story instead of cutting it off before the rape, that's why the Prelude brings up sexual scenes…that's not likely to happen now, unless in a later chapter and conflict, which those of you who read the previous version have read (I think…). The rating's more to be on the safe side for now.**

**-Bridget**

**Chapter 5: The First Complication**

A big scarlet train huffed off from Platform 9 and ¾ on a crisp September day. Inside one compartment sat three teenagers, unusually alone. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were sitting together, along with Scabbers, a rat, Crookshanks, a big orange cat, and Hedwig, the owl. Hermione was approximately three months pregnant, just barely showing and only if you knew what you were looking for at that. Rain lashed against the windows as the boys played wizards chess together.

The door to their compartment slid open and Ginny Weasley walked in from wherever she had been. Hermione and she exchanged brief greetings before she walked over to the seat behind Ron, whispered something in his ear, got her answer, and left, but no before Ginny gave Hermione a scrutinizing look. She wondered briefly what it had been about, but the witch with the lunch cart came before she could ask.

They got a big lunch of cauldron cakes, every flavour beans, chocolate frogs, and pumpkin juice. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at Ron's eating habits before delicately biting into a cauldron cake. Several minutes passed in near-silence before she decided to break it. However, Ron beat her to it.

"Mione, is it true that you _(Here it comes, _she thought_, he's going to ask if I'm really pregnant!) _know who our new defense against the dark arts teacher is?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, Ron, and if you'd kept up with the _Daily Prophet_, you'd know, too."

"Well who is it?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," she told him, feeling a mixture of relief and smugness wash over her tensed body.

She had been lucky, as she hadn't had severe morning sickness, but she had been feeling more and more tired recently, as if she just couldn't get enough sleep, no matter how much sleeping she did. She closed her eyes for a moment and was soon fast asleep. However, she was woken up about twenty minutes later by a sick churning in her stomach, and she made a frenzied scramble for the girls' bathroom.

After paying her respects to the Porcelain God, she wiped her mouth as thoroughly as she could on some toilet paper and sat with her knees tucked against her chest and stomach as tightly as she could. Pain ripped briefly across her stomach, making her double over, clutch her knees, and whimper in pain. It subsided quickly, but seemed to have made the sickness much worse. She threw up again and again until she was sure there was nothing left in her stomach and then lay shaking and whimpering on the floor of the bathroom. The pain streaked through her abdomen a second time. She nearly shrieked from it, but managed to muffle the sound with her arm. Her vision swam as a buzzing noise filled her ears.

Fighting for consciousness, she heard someone call her name.

"I'm here!" she said, trying to yell, but she was too weakened by her throwing up to do more than make it a little louder than her regular voice.

"Are you okay?" It was Harry. "Ron and I were worried about you-"

"Harry, get Pomfrey. Fast."

She heard Harry take off at a dead run as she clutched her abdomen. She could feel the pain crashing down upon her again, but refused to do more than whimper. She could smell blood and could only imagine what this was doing to Jamie, her baby. Something within her told her that she had a daughter, not a son. She couldn't help but wonder how much more of this Jamie could take, how much longer her baby could survive this. Then she wondered if she were already dead. Terror filled her mind as she curled into a tighter ball.

A loud popping noise to her left startled her slightly, but it just barely broke through the cloud of pain and fear that surrounded her. She groaned and let out a small shriek as the pain came back worse than before. She could hear someone moving around, but she was unsure where or who it was. Madame Pomfrey appeared in front of and above her. She cried out her terror at the sight of her, unable to take any more of the agony and the dreadful thoughts that kept pouring through her mind.

"Ms. Granger, can you stand up? Mr. Potter already informed me you are pregnant, but we can't do anything to help you or your baby on this train," she said to the totally distraught student lying on the floor.

"Can't…stand," she gasped in reply.

Next thing he knew, Harry was standing beside her, helping to support her by holding her under her right shoulder as Madame Pomfrey held her on the left. She was dimly aware of them apparating to Hogwarts and being laid down on a bed. She heard Harry tell her he'd stay with her before she lost her grip and sank into unconsciousness.

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Hermione awoke some hours later to see Harry asleep on a cot on the floor next to her. The room was dark and quiet save for the sound of their breathing. The cot creaked slightly as Harry shifted, his feet hanging off one end and his arms off of either side. His always-messy black hair was even more mussed than usual as he lay sleeping on the cot.

She lay back down on her back on her bed and tried to remember what she was doing in the hospital wing. She remembered everything up to the point of Harry saying…something. Fear settled down twice as hard on her as she recalled why she was in the wing. She felt a dull ache in her lower abdomen, but the coppery smell of blood had been replaced by the sterile smell of the hospital wing's purity. She was afraid to see Madame Pomfrey, afraid to be told that she had lost her little girl. Pomfrey, however, seemed to sense that she was awake. Without giving her a chance to say anything, she forced her to drink a potion that smelled like rotten eggs mixed with decomposing cabbage. Her eyes felt heavy, and shortly she was asleep again.

The next thing she knew, sunlight was streaming in her window and Harry was sitting in a chair next to her bed. The pain in her abdomen was much worse than it had been last night, but she was more concerned with trying to find Pomfrey than fretting about Jamie, because she couldn't change the events of the previous 24 hours now. Pomfrey was walking back into the wing about the time Hermione woke up, so she motioned the older witch over to her.

"Madame Pomfrey," she began nervously, "did I…did I lose…" She couldn't quite bring herself to ask the question weighing most heavily on her mind.

"No, dear, you didn't, but this makes things a good deal harder and more complicated for us all…I suppose that's why they call these things complications. I'm still not sure why, but what happened was that your body was trying to expel your babies long before they were prepared to be born," the older witch informed her.

"Babies?" she said, frowning. "What do you mean by that?"

"You aren't carrying just one baby, Ms. Granger, you're carrying twins."

"Would you know whether they're boys or girls?" she asked eagerly and a bit apprehensively. Two children would be a lot harder to raise than one…

"We can find out in a moment, if you'd really like to know," replied Madame Pomfrey kindly.

"Okay," she said, looking over towards Harry as the healer left to her office to get some things from it.

"Harry," she called, "come here a minute. I want you to know as well."

As he came over, Hermione could see the pain in his green eyes which dulled them considerably. She decided to simply be blunt and ask him what was wrong.

"What's bothering you?"

"Mione, answer me honestly, 'cause I have to know now…do you…do you have feelings for me, or is this just because you need support? I'll be here either way, but, still…I'd like to know."

"Harry, don't be silly! You've been my best friend since the day we met, but there's always been something more behind it than just that. You've always been someone I can talk to, someone I trust and lean on. Yet, it's still more than that…I think I love you," she finished, searching his eyes for some reaction from him. She saw the same look in his eyes she had the day she had accidentally apparated to his house, where her mother had later found her by "tracking" her.

Just then Pomfrey came back and told Hermione to sit up as she gave her several doses of various potions. Then she told her to lie down on her back and part her robes enough to expose her slightly-rounded abdomen. She wasn't sure why, but she was scared and in need of comfort. Reaching over, she grasped Harry's hand tightly as if to never let him go. He was startled at first, but then he smiled the reassuring smile she needed so desperately.

Pomfrey passed a wand-like object over her abdomen several times, frowning and muttering a little to herself. Hermione tried not to squirm, but the object often brushed her exposed stomach, tickling her and making it hard for her to stay still. Harry stared down at his new girlfriend with a bemused yet amused expression.

"Well?" Hermione asked.

"Twins…girls…gotta go," muttered Pomfrey as she sped off towards her office with a frown on her face.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Hermione said exasperatedly.


	6. School, Pregnancy, and Harry

**Chapter 6: School, Pregnancy, and Harry**

Soon after her complication Hermione returned to her old Hogwarts life. This year she had an apartment-like dorm at the top of Gryffindor Tower that had been sound-proofed for her use when the babies were born. The magical refrigerator in the corner was always full of food for her to eat if she were hungry. If she wanted something that wasn't in it, all she had to do was wish for it, which she found highly convenient. Best of all, Harry and Ron could come visit her from time to time without having to worry about the stairs and falling on their asses.

Sighing contentedly, Hermione soaked in a warm bubble bath with the light so low it was nearly dark in the warm, humid bathroom. She glanced down at her five-and-a-half-months-pregnant belly and nearly groaned out loud. She knew she wasn't as big as she thought she was, but it still wasn't helping matters. She was definitely showing a bit now, although most people had just decided she'd put on weight, which she had. She'd gone from 111 pounds to 116 already, which Pomfrey said was perfectly fine, that it was normal for women to gain weight during pregnancy.

Every Friday after school was out for the weekend she had to go get a check-up on her pregnancy with Madame Pomfrey. So far the scare on the train had been the only complication with her babies, for which she was grateful. The twinges in her abdomen hadn't entirely gone away, but Pomfrey instructed her to just take things easy and make sure she took her special potions at lunch everyday.

A knock on alerted her that someone was waiting for her to come to the door. She heaved an aggravated sigh and called, "Who is it?"

"Open up, Mione, it's me!" came Harry's response.

"Just come on in, Harry. I'm not getting out of my bubble bath, even for you," she told him jokingly.

"How're my three favourite girls?" Harry asked, leaning down to give her a gentle, chaste kiss. The first time he had said that, Hermione had been confused because she didn't understand that he was already including her two unborn girls.

"I dunno about them," she laughed, "but I feel as big as a boat."

"Ah, but you still look so gorgeous, Mione."

"I look like a pear on legs!" she protested weakly, grabbing a handful of soap bubbles and flinging them at him.

"Hm, I always did like pears," fibbed Harry as he kneeled on the floor next to the tub and began to give her a back massage.

"You liar!" she giggled, flicking some more soap bubbles on him. In return, Harry grinned evilly at her.

"That's it! You're in for it now!" he said. He picked up a big handful of bubbles and threw them on her.

"I'm already soapy and wet, mister, so fat lot of good that did!" she said triumphantly. Her hazel eyes sparkled and danced in the dim lighting.

"Alright! You asked for it!" came a muffled reply. A minute later Harry returned in nothing but a pair of swim trunks on. He leaped into the tub beside her, slipped, and nearly fell.

"_I_ asked for it?!" she repeated incredulously.

"Well…give me a minute," Harry said, rubbing his hip slowly.

The entire time since Harry had walked in Hermione had stayed sunken well below the bubbles; only her head had been showing. Quietly she used a transfiguration spell to transfigure her wash cloth into a swimming suit since she wasn't entirely comfortable lying naked in front of Harry, even if there were bubbles covering her.

Without warning, Harry suddenly launched his attack against Hermione, tickling her ribs thoroughly until she screamed for mercy. Soapy water and bubbles flew everywhere, soaking the floor and making it inevitably slippery. The teens splashed and screamed, unaware of what they were doing. Finally the drenched couple staggered out of the tub and accio-ed a couple of large, fluffy towels.

Harry made it out the door and into the living room without incident. Hermione, following behind, didn't. He turned around to say something, but the words flew out the window as he watched what happened. Time seemed to be in slow motion as he watched Hermione take a misstep, slip, and fall. He was already slipping towards her before her first cry of terror of fear reached his ears.

"Shh, Mione, it'll be okay," he said, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt.

"Harry, what about the girls?" The words were barely out of her mouth before her eyes widened and she clutched her abdomen, whimpering in pain.

"Here, take my hand. That's it," said Harry as he helped her to stand. Then he gently picked her up.

"Harry!" she yelped in fright, "Put me down! I don't want to fall again!"

"Take it easy," he crooned at her, putting as much comfort into the words as he possibly could. "I'm not going to drop you or let you fall again."

By this time they had reached Hermione's bedroom, where he placed her gently on the bed before he turned on his heels and ran back the way he had come from.

"Harry!" she cried fearfully. "Don't leave me! Come back, I need you!" Her words only echoed on the stucco walls and ran hollowly in her ears. She was all alone; he had abandoned her in his own fright.


	7. Twin Hatred

**Chapter 7: Twin Hatred**

Harry's breath caught in his throat and choked him. A thousand thoughts ran through his head as he heard Hermione cry out in distress. Each and every one of them involved Hermione losing the twins. In a few, Hermione died as well. He couldn't bear it, not any of it. He reached her bedroom and set her down as gently as he could.

By this time he could feel painful sobs threatening to burst forth, so Harry fled the room. He spun on his heels and raced out the door and through the castle. He heard Draco sneering at him some cruel remark, but for once he just let it go; he had someone worth worrying over on his mind. He ran at full tilt past a stunned Professor McGonagall and very nearly ran into Ron, who fell in behind him.

"Harry, what's wrong?" he asked, obviously worried.

Silence.

"Is You-Know-Who back?"

No response.

"Harry, tell me what's bloody going on!" Ron said desperately.

"It's Hermione," Harry said, gasping for breath.

"She's not- she isn't- she hasn't-?"

"No, Ron, but she's gong to if I can't get Pomfrey fast enough.

A few seconds later they burst into the hospital ward, which was strangely empty. Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey was in her office when he and Ron came charging in. She looked up from a stack of papers she was filing when the two boys came flying in and nearly knocked her over. She knew then that something wasn't right.

"What can I do for you, boys?" she asked, trying not to worry. _'Just because they come doesn't mean it's about Ms. Granger…one of their other friends might be hurt…'_

"Madame Pomfrey, it's Hermione," Ron said breathlessly.

"She slipped and fell," continued Harry, "and when I left her, she was screaming, and I think-"

Harry was cut off when he realized Pomfrey had just used floo powder and traveled to Hermione's apartment…

-------

Hermione lay on her bed, tears running down her face from the pain that just wouldn't go away, wouldn't stop. From time to time it would get so bad all she could do was scream. She knew that since she wasn't even six months along, the twins would have almost no chance of surviving. Then again, here she had magic – they might live.

Her face was deathly pale as she lay helpless on her bed, angry at Harry and angry at herself. She was angry at Harry for tucking tail and running when she needed him, but angry at herself for not being more careful about getting out of the tub. She heard a loud snapping sound, but it didn't quite register in her pain-stricken mind that help might be only seconds away.

"Ms. Granger?" a voice, a _familiar_ voice, said, breaking through her panic. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the bedroom," she replied weakly.

Madame Pomfrey came bursting forth from her living room. She was her usual no-nonsense self, telling her after a quick yet thorough exam that she was going to be transported directly to St. Mungos. This scared Hermione, but she kept quiet as she knew Pomfrey would only do what was best for her and the twins she was carrying…or had been, at least, she wasn't sure about anything anymore.

Pomfrey gripped her wrist tightly, so tightly Hermione was sure she would never have feeling in it again. She had the familiar sensation of being pulled through a narrow tube before the pressure released and she found herself standing in St. Mungos in only her conjured, rather tight-fitting swim suit with an old, semi-translucent robe thrown over it. She bit back another cry of pain and doubled over instead to clutch her abdomen. She wished that this could all be over, and not for the first time she wanted to pulverize Eric, maybe run his balls through a blender while still attached to him, even. All she could think of was how much she hated him, how much she couldn't stand him anymore.

A young healer with bright, bubble-gum pink hair who reminded her of Tonks led her away from Madame Pomfrey and into a private room where a specialist took over her care, assisted by the Tonks-like person. She asked Hermione to take off her robe so she could do a more meticulous assessment. Cringing in pain, she did as she was asked, willing to do anything to be liberated of the terror and agony that plagued her. The healer probed her enlarging stomach gently for a couple minutes before she muttered a complicated-sounding spell and began waving her wand over Hermione's abdomen. After a sew more minutes she let her wand and wand hand fall back to her side as she turned to address her patient.

"Ms. Granger, I'm very sorry to say this, but you have to make a choice," she began hesitantly, not quite able to meet her eyes.

"Wha-what do you mean?" she stammered in reply.

"Ms. Granger, if you don't make this choice, you're going to lose both of your girls. You body's just simply not able to carry both of them…I'm so sorry to tell you this, but you're going to have to let one go or else lose them both and probably yourself as well," finished the healer.

Hermione felt herself go numb. This couldn't be happening, not to her, not to her girls. There had to be another way…

"No, I won't do it. I wouldn't kill them then, and I won't do it now," she said with a lot more conviction than she really felt. "There has to be another way, something else we can do, something else _you_ can do. I can't and I won't murder my own little girl."

"You're going to kill both of them if you don't. Isn't one life lost better than losing two, maybe three? Are you really going to let them both go because you're too selfish to let one go?" the healer said gently, pity as well as sadness flooding her blue eyes.

"No. I won't do it," she repeated, nearly yelling this time. "You can't make me! It isn't right, isn't fair, and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" she screamed as she felt those hated tears roll down her cheeks.

The healer with the pink hair stepped in next to her, but Hermione didn't even try to push her away. She didn't shove her hand away, either, as she reached around her tentatively, wrapped an arm around her, and gave her a hug. She didn't resist it, either, when she sat down next to her and pulled her up next to her, letting her cry on her shoulder. Through her tears Hermione saw that her name was Rachael and that she too was crying.

"Honey, I've been there," she said, beginning to rock her.

"You were?" she sobbed, leaning into the strangers embrace, the only comfort she could find in a world that suddenly seemed unbearably cold.

"Yeah…three years ago…my little boy, he was the result of rape, but I loved him and his brother so much…I was only five months along when it happened…no matter what they did, no one could get the bleeding to stop permanently, not the pain, either…"

"Yeah?" Hermione sniffled against her shoulder. She couldn't help but notice the pleasant smell of vanilla and roses that Rachael smelt of.

"Finally they brought me in, my parents, I mean. The healers told me the same thing they told you, that I had to make a choice. Like you, I refused, so they decided to try something totally new. They removed one of the boys, Tomas, and used magic to try to allow him to live, and he did…but he didn't make it to his first birthday; he died of a lung infection just two weeks before his first birthday."

"I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be – you're starting to sound like Denise now. Go with your heart, sweetie, okay? I wasn't much older than you when that all happened…in some ways I regret what I did and wish I had just let him die instead of prolonging his suffering like that, but then I think of the smiles and giggles and I realize that he lived a pretty good, happy life, and I wouldn't exchange those memories for the world."

"Do you think…Do you think that it might work for me?"

"It might, but listen to your heart on this one. You might regret it if you don't."

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling through her tears. "That's what I'm going to do…she isn't going to die, not today, anyway."

"Well, let's get you prepped for surgery, then," Denise broke in, looking annoyed.

-------

Several hours later Hermione was beginning to wake up from the special anesthesia that she had been on during the operation. She felt somehow emptier as she came to, as if a piece of her were missing. As she became more and more awake, she remembered that she no longer was carrying one of her girls…

She had already told them her first born was to be named Jennifer Kay Granger before going into surgery. She saw a small, magical incubator next to her bed and peered inside. Lying inside was a baby hardly recognizable as a baby, let alone hers. She was tiny, seemingly too tiny for her own skin which wasn't quite filled out. Her eyes were shut, and instead of placing her bracelet on her wrist, the delivery team had taped it to her incubator. Her breathing was barely perceptible and tubes were crawling all over her tiny body.

As her mother watched, Jennifer slowly moved her head as if the light bothered her even through her clenched eyes. It was all Hermione could do not to cry. How was this tiny being supposed to live? She was too small, too fragile. It made her sick to think of what she was going to put her little girl through and hurt terribly to think of the prone, helpless little creature as her daughter. She turned her head away and ignored the tiny being, her only way of trying to prevent the hurt to herself. She was surprised to feel hatred towards the baby for being born too soon and towards her sister for still being safely inside of her, growing like a normal baby while she had practically shoved her sister out to her death. She knew it wasn't in her heart anymore to love either of them; how could she love a murderer and someone who was only going to hurt her in the end?


	8. Peace and Tragedy

**A/N: Yeah, people, I just realized I managed to skip Christmas somehow…sorry about that, but I really don't care to (and won't) do a fourth revamp. I swear this is the last revamp I'm doing on this story, EVER! So I guess you guys can just imagine what it was like. I mean, Hermione was in the hospital, so… -shrugs- Once again, sorry everyone…don't kill me for it or you'll never find out the new ending, lol. Maybe I'll add a flashback from Hermione's POV for you, if that makes it any better…**

**Chapter 8: **_**Peace and Tragedy**_

Voldemort paced restlessly back and forth from one side of his darkened lair to the other. His snake like eyes glittered dangerously red as he waited for a certain Death Eater to materialize. He clasped his frail, white hands together behind his back and glanced at a cracked timepiece which sat upon a dirt-and-slime encrusted wall. His pet snake, Nagini, lay curled in a corner under a magical heat lamp, sound asleep. His impatience had nearly reached an intolerable level before the chosen Death Eater reappeared.

"Hanson," he simply addressed the hooded man.

"Master," he replied, bowing down before Voldemort's feet, kissing each tenderly.

"I have news for you of your mission of nearly half a year ago."

"Yes, milord?"

"You have failed." His voice carried more ice in it than was usual, causing Eric to flinch violently.

"H-how did I fail?" he stuttered in shock and fear.

"The girl, Granger, _lived_," he hissed with a slight connotation of anger.

"I'm so sorry, Master-"

"Oh shut up, you filthy git!" he snapped.

"Yes, Master," Eric replied obediently, bowing his head.

"However," continued Voldemort a little more nicely, "she did produce offspring…two of them, to be exact."

"That is more than we had ever hoped for!" said Eric in awe, his dark eyes widening.

"Yes, yes it is. The only problem is you failed yet again."

"M-milord, how is it that I failed?"

"She produced a girl child nearly a week ago. My source inside Hogwarts tells me the other child, which she is still carrying, is a girl as well. You have failed to produce me an heir," he said menacingly.

"Master! Spare me, please!" he squeaked, trembling with fear. For a moment he appeared much as the girl he had raped, Hermione, had.

I will give you one more chance, Hanson, and only one. Produce a male heir, or you _will_ die!" threatened Voldemort angrily.

"Y-ye-yes milord! Who do you wish to use?"

It must be someone as close to Potter as possible…hmm…let me see…ah, yes, I have it now. Capture that Weasley girl, Ginerva I believe her name is. If there is someone closer you find, use them, but give me results this time…if the opportunity arises, use Granger again. If my sources are correct, she isn't far from losing that other little wench she's carrying…maybe you can hurry things along?" he suggested darkly.

"Yes, Master!" replied Eric as he rose to his feet again. "I will do just that! Your every wish is my command!"

"If that is so, than my wish is for you to leave at once and get to work on our new plans before you become too useless to me," snarled the Dark Lord. "Maybe for good measure, use both the Weasley girl and Granger," he instructed.

"I will do so!" Eris replied, and with that he was gone.

-------

Some weeks later, two girls and two boys, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter walked together off of Hogwarts campus and towards the little town of Hogsmeade for the first day of their Hogsmeade weekend. Three of them laughed and talked gaily as Hermione brooded over the dramatic changes in her life over the last eight and a half months or so. She had only another month to carry Jamie before she had to face the child that was killing her sister. Anger and resentment still overwhelmed her as she thought of the most recent news of Jenny's decline. The preemie had lost another ounce over the last week and was struggling desperately to survive. Odds weren't good for her.

Hermione knew her new friend, Rachael, and Madame Pomfrey would ring her neck if they knew she was out at the moment. She knew Ron and Harry, maybe Ginny as well, would also be livid if they knew she was supposed to be in bed resting at the moment, but she barely cared anymore. Not much mattered as she wandered around in a stunned, hurt daze.

"…right, Mione?" Ron was saying.

"Um, sorry Ron, but I was a bit preoccupied…what did you say?" she said apologetically.

"I was saying the Cannons were better than the Tornados," he repeated patiently, "right?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," she said, not really catching much but the last word again.

Harry shot her a look that clearly stated he was going to have a talk with her later, but she didn't really care. If anything, she was bit annoyed. Why should he worry about every little thing she did, for Merlin's sake?!

The quartet entered the little town of Hogsmeade at that moment, and the girls broke off from the boys for an hour or so to do some shopping on their own. It reminded Hermione of the past Christmas she'd spent in the Hospital with her daughter, Jenny…

-------

Christmas day, about one month ago…

_Hermione woke up to see snow falling softly against her window, her daughter lying in her incubator next to her. Jenny had lost two ounces since birth and was dangerously underweight now. No matter what the hospital staff did, however, she just kept losing weight instead of gaining any. Fear knifed through Hermione at the frightening thought of losing her daughter, but she pushed the thought away, as far away as she could._

_She wished fiercely to be back with her friends at Hogwarts, but she knew it would be another few days before they would consider releasing her back to her school. She had had several complications with Jamie after they had removed Jenny, and that had prolonged her unfortunate stay at St. Mungos. Now she was sitting here in a hospital bed on Christmas day with not a soul to be seen. Where were her friends, anyway?_

_Grumpily she turned to the magically warmed breakfast of toast, sausage, and eggs and choked them down while thinking vile thoughts of Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She was furious that she had been abandoned and forgotten in this sterile hospital with its white walls and sound-proofed rooms. She could imagine what all her friends were doing back at Hogwarts…_

_There was a knock on her door before Rachael stepped into her room. She had a wheelchair with her and a wrapped present under one arm. She wheeled the chair up to Hermione's bed and helped her into it while she ignored Hermione's questions about the package she had slipped into a pocket on her robes. She wheeled Hermione out of her room and down the hall. There she took a sharp right and Hermione found herself in an unfamiliar room decorated in red and green colours, with the Gryffindor colours being everywhere. Holly lay about the walls in a breath-taking fashion with red and green streamers criss-crossing the ceiling. The ceiling itself was magically enchanted to show falling snow, which disappeared just out of arm's reach._

_Hermione was so busy admiring the decorations that she didn't notice someone creep up behind her and place their hands over her hazel eyes. At first she was a bit scared, but she knew Rachael wouldn't let anyone hurt her. She heard a flurry of movement before the room was once again revealed to her. In front of her stood Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Grubbly-Plank, and Hagrid. She also saw Madame Pomfrey, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Neville, Luna, and Lavender, who was Ron's girlfriend. Tears filled her already misty eyes at the sight of her friends, but someone was missing…_

"_Professor Dumbledore," she addressed the headmaster, "where's Harry? Why isn't he here? Didn't he want to come?"_

"_Mione, take a chill pill, I'm right here," replied Harry himself from behind her chair. His smile was such a wonderful sight!_

"_Let us begin our Christmas party!" said Dumbledore cheerily._

_He clapped his aging hands together briskly twice and food and drink appeared on tables Hermione hadn't noticed before now. Rachael turned to leave at this point, but she begged her to stay at the party. After a brief inquiry, she learned Snape was presiding over the feast at Hogwarts. This made her laugh like there was no tomorrow, never another chance to laugh in her life. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have friends like this, even if the Ron and Ginny kept bickering, Fred and George kept testing their newest tricks on all the other guests, Luna kept making outrageous predictions, and Neville spilled and knocked over more food and drink items than she'd previously thought possible. She hadn't been forgotten, after all._

_Then came the presents. Everyone had brought something for her. Dumbledore gave her a new book bag with a few mystery books she couldn't wait to read, as well as _Hogwarts: A History Part II_. Rachael had given her a magical photo album in which to keep photos of her children. McGonagall had given her a book an Transfiguration and a bag of her favourite candies, Fantasy Caramels. The Weasley twins gave her a bag of assorted practical jokes, Ron gave her a book on child care, Neville gave her some toys for the babies, Luna gave her a dream catcher to hang where the babies would be sleeping, Pomfrey gave her some adorable clothes for the twins, Ginny gave her name bracelets for the girls with their names inscribed on them, one gold and the other red, and Harry simply gave her a note. The note had read: '_Ask me at our next Hogsmeade trip together what this is about.'

------ Back to the present… -------

Ginny tugged Hermione towards a cute little shop with magical baby care items in it. Her stomach churned as she stared at it all and tried to act interested in it. She still hadn't told her friends the truth, that she couldn't do anything more than hate the twins for everything. She didn't really want either of them anymore, although her hate was shifting more towards Jamie with each passing day, leaving less and less hate for Jenny and simply sympathy for her struggling daughter. Yet, the hate was still there, enough so that it kept her from ever visiting her. If she'd had things her way, she wouldn't even be receiving the weekly reports on the weakling's status.

Ginny seemed to get board quickly with the little shop and wound her way back out the front door, tugging Hermione after her. They walked side by side down the street into shop after shop with Ginny excitedly tugging her older friend after her. After a while she couldn't help but give up her troublesome thoughts and follow Ginny into her happy, bouncy mood. They did something Hermione would come to wonder at later: they bought pranks to play on the boys. Yes, good, sensible Hermione let loose and started to have fun for the first time since she'd been raped.

After nearly an hour had passed they headed for their meeting place outside a brightly illuminated magic shop that smelt of a few too many butterbeers. The boys brought back lunch and they all had a picnic under a large tree. Talking and laughing as she hadn't in forever and a day, Hermione felt peace settle over her troubled mind.

"Hey Harry," she said quietly.

"What Mione?"

"What was that note you gave me for Christmas about?"

"I need to talk to you about that alone," he replied, motioning with his head towards Ginny and Ron.

"Hey guys!" Hermione interrupted.

"Huh?" asked Ron.

"I'm going to leave with Harry for a while, that okay?"

"Sure, Mione," Ginny responded, poking her brother with her bony elbow.

"Hey!" protested Ron as he playfully shoved his sister.

Hermione rolled her brown eyes reached for Harry's outstretched hand to pull herself up off the ground.

They walked away, hand in hand, from the Weasleys, Hermione resting her head on Harry's shoulder. She wondered briefly what it was he wanted to tell her, but she didn't push it. This moment was all she was concerned with and was filled with Harry's scent, his touch, and the feeling of security she got from him. Her eyes closed in sheer contentment; this was the way she wanted things to be forever.

Harry smiled down at his girlfriend who was all but lying on his left shoulder, eyes closed. There was a good deal of time before they had to return to Hogwarts, so the sun was still high and bright over their heads, illuminating Hermione's hair and making it look unreal to him. He gently led her off the path they had been walking on and down to a sparkling, shaded creek full of birds and trees.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"Just one of my favourite places to go and think when we're in Hogsmeade," Harry replied, sitting down and reaching up to her for her right hand.

Hermione gave him her hand and sat down, scooting over and tucking herself up against him. She smiled happily and looked up towards him a bit longingly. Harry quickly took her cue and leaned down to gently kiss her. He loved the way she seemed to be designed for him, the way she melted against him. He loved the sweet smell of her, a mixture of vanilla and roses. His own cologne tingled his nose with a sharp, piney smell.

After a minute or so they finally broke apart, each wanting more than just that little kiss but knowing they couldn't, not for Jamie's sake; there was too much risk involved for the unborn child. Hermione could see her own growing love reflected in Harry's green eyes which she adored so much. She needed him, and now she could admit it to herself. She'd tried so hard to convince herself that she needed no one, but she couldn't deny it any longer, not to herself, anyway.

"Merry Christmas, Mione," Harry whispered, holding her rounded form close to his own body.

She smiled and looked around, marveling at the fact that it was February and there wasn't snow on the ground or ice on the creek. The air held a bit of a chill to it, but it was definitely an unusually warm day. Birds were moving around from tree to tree and flying past their ears.

"We should probably go back before Ron and Ginny kill each other," joked Hermione, snuggling against Harry a little tighter.

"Yeah," he agreed, lying on his back and pulling her up next to him on the leaves.

"No, really, we should," she said, but her actions were much to the contrary. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. The sky, she notivced, was a bright, clear blue, perfect for today, the perfect day.

"Yeah, and you and I both know what we shouldn't be doing right now that we are," he sighed, nuzzling her soft, brown hair.

"Doesn't mean anything," she told him.

"Does too…you're driving me crazy!" he mumbled against her scalp.

"So, that's your problem," she said jokingly, closing her eyes and draping an arm around him.

"Mione! Not fair!"

"Is too. You're all mine now, so there's all the time in the world now…but not now," she said. Her tone was still light and joking, but she was really only half joking; this was the first time either of them had brought up their relationship quite so directly.

"Of course, but you've got it wrong, Mione. You see, I'm not yours, you're mine," he replied, tugging her closer for another drawn out kiss.

Hermione was enjoying the time she was spending with Harry alone, but something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

"Harry, can we go now? I think something's happened to Ron or Ginny," she said, her playful attitude instantly melting to one of terror.

Harry looked alarmed and replied, "Of course, let's go. Are you sure?"

"I'm positive!" she yelled back at him, jogging a bit awkwardly back down the path, not sure she was going the right way. Harry, thankfully, took the lead and jogged back with her to where they had left their friends.

When they arrived, they found Ron unconscious and Ginny no where in sight. Harry began trying to wake Ron up as Hermione looked around for Ginny. She had a really bad feeling about all of this. She searched desperately for the younger girl. She returned to Harry and the now-conscious Ron, both of whom looked worried when she returned without Ginny.

Before anyone could say anything, a black owl swooped out of the sky. Its dark eyes seemed to glare at them all before it dropped a letter into Hermione's hand and flew off furiously. Hermione opened the letter with trembling hands, sure that this was about Ginny's disappearance…


	9. Eric Strikes Again, Revised Version

**A/N:** Just to let everyone know, there is going to be one more book in the_ Child You Never Knew About_ series. The last story is entitled _Broken Hopes and Dreams_. Just wanted to give everyone a quick update on the future of the TCYNKA series. I'm hoping to find someone to co-author the last WIJL book with, so if that interests you, please let me know ASAP. I want to start the final book soon.

- Bridget -

**Chapter 9: **_**Eric Strikes Again**_

Do feel like a man when you push her around?

Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?

...Face down in the dirt, she said, "This doesn't hurt"

She said, "I've finally had enough"

-The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, _Face Down_

Hermione was terrified to read the letter, but even more scared not to. Its black paper seemed to smolder in her hands, her name seemed written in thick grey smoke. She unfolded it, skimmed it once, read it quickly twice, dropped it, and began screaming uncontrollably. Her hazel eyes grew wide and she shook so hard she could barely stand while she screamed her heart out.

Harry was alarmed by her reaction to the letter, so he picked it up from off the ground; he wanted to know what was so wrong, why Hermione had just fallen apart. She was usually the sensible, strong person in their group. This wasn't like her at all. Her eyes grew wider as she saw him pick up the note and try to read it. She let loose an indiscernible scream and tensed. He couldn't read it!

Harry grabbed Hermione and tried to restrain her with one arm as he held the letter in one hand and made an attempt to read it. In thick, smoldering silver words the letter read:

_Granger:_

_You're next._

That was all it said, but it spoke volumes. It was enough to literally bring Hermione to her knees and cause tears as she screamed in terror. She was always the strong one, but now she was falling apart at the seams. Harry called for help, and McGonagall, who happened to be nearby, quickly grabbed hold of Hermione, restraining her so she wouldn't hurt herself in her panic. The older witch seemed a bit frail in the classroom, but her true strength was shown as she held onto Hermione and side-apparated them to just outside the Hogwarts campus where Pomfrey was already waiting. By this time Hermione was silent, shaking badly in her terror. Her skin was a pasty white and she couldn't support herself. (For anyone who doesn't believe this, don't knock the fear until you've been through rape, or any severe trauma for that matter, and then had the fear triggered again; it can be worse than the original fear, believe me.) Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, mixing with the thin film of dirt on them to create little mud flows.

Pomfrey led (mostly dragged) the panicked witch over to the nearest bed and laid her down on it, talking to her soothingly all the while. She frowned as she watched the younger witch grimace as if in pain, but it was just a brief flicker, so she let it go. At that moment she was more concerned with getting a sedative into Hermione before she hurt herself, the baby, or both of them. Talking quietly to her patient, Poppy began mixing a couple of potions together to make a strong sedative. It took her several minutes of talking soothingly before she felt Hermione was calm enough to to swallow the potion without choking on it. She almost sighed in relief as she Hermione's head droop and the stressed teen fall asleep under the powerful magic.

With one last look at the girl who was almost like her own daughter now, Poppy headed for the fireplace in her office to use the Floo Network to travel to St. Mungos. She had a bad feeling about the way the girl had grimaced when she first came in and decided it was time to ask Healer Paulson to come stay at Hogwarts until the Granger twins had been born. Something, some nagging thought, insisted she'd regret this if she didn't...

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A man in black hooded robes stood over a girl with long red hair who lay unconscious on the floor. Her blood was everywhere and on everything and for the first time he felt remorse for all that he had done. No, maybe not the first time. What else would you accredit for the fact that he was trying to save Granger's -_his_ - daughter from death? Hopefully the spell he had cast on the teen had taken effect, otherwise he had no option but to kill his daughter. Who knew, maybe he had already killed the first little girl. Maybe she never had a chance to begin with. What would that do to Hermio- no, Granger?

He began to hate himself as these thoughts coursed through his head. What right did he have to take away the freedom of a teenage girl? None. What right did he have to meddle with these three, no, four girls' lives? And for what? What was this really going to

A tear slowly seeped from the corner of one eyes and he roughly brushed it away from his face with the back of his hand. There was no excuse for what he had done that night eight months ago nor what he had done tonight and was going to do again soon, even if the Dark Lord _had_ ordered him to do it. Although Granger probably would never believe him, he wasn't without feelings. He had actually wanted to help her, but circumstances prevented him from doing so.

The Weasley girl stirred and groaned and another wave of guilt crashed down on the unwilling Death Eater. He wished so much for Granger to know the truth, but he couldn't tell her, not after what he'd done. Instead he conjured up a bed and carefully laid the Weasley girl on it. After that he performed several healing spells and added a protective spell to the girl to ensure she'd go through with the pregnancy, the same one he'd placed on Granger. He wondered briefly if she'd have kept the twins if he hadn't and then shrugged the thought off. What was done was done. She probably would have anyway.

Seeing that Weasley was coming 'round, Eric scooped her up in her arms, noting how light she was. With a quick look into the girl's face and a whispered "good-luck", he Apparated them both to the road running just past the Hogwarts campus where he was sure she would be soon found by somebody. Even now he could hear footsteps coming rapidly his way, so with a last look at her and one last pang of regret he Disapparated.

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Hermione awoke some time later in the hospital wing slightly disoriented. She wasn't sure at first how she had gotten there or why until it all came back and hit her with the force of a speeding Bludger - the note, Eric. She shivered underneath her blankets despite the warmth enveloping her. It wasn't right; he couldn't be after her again, could he? Why - what more did he want from her?

Slowly she slipped from beneath the fluffy covers and stood in her stockings on the slick, cold floor. At the foot of the bed and to the left was her shoes, which she grabbed and slowly pulled on while sitting in the edge of the bed after several tries. She the left the wing, determined to go out and get some fresh air. Her footsteps echoed loudly off of the narrow corridor she traveled down, making her feel like some sort of escaped convict. She shook the feeling off and made a right turn into a much wider hall full of bends and twists. It sloped gently down and smelled rather musty and a bit fishy which always led her to believe she as underneath the lake. Up ahead was a sharp left, two flights of stairs, and then a doorway leading outside the elegant castle and onto perfectly manicured emerald lawns. Shadows were cast by the trees in the fading light like dozens of soldiers standing guard as she stepped from the entryway out into the cool evening.

A chill spring breeze swept over her, making goosebumps cover her bare arms where her robes ended; she'd accidentally left her cloak in the Wing. The young witch drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, savouring the sharp air. Unconsciously she turned towards Hagrid's hut and hiked her way towards the dull speck across the grounds with the dark, mysterious Forbidden Forest behind it. She reached the door and knocked, surprise crossing her face when she didn't hear Fang's booming barks or Hagrid's friendly voice. She knocked again and waited a few more seconds before deciding he must have been out. Disappointed, she turned and walked back towards the castle, toes scuffing the brown leaves covering the tiny shoots of new grass.

"Hey!" said a voice behind her.

Hermione turned around, saw who it was, and glared. "Go away, Ferret."

"At least I didn't go get myself knocked up over break," retorted Draco Malfoy, smirking as if were better than her.

"Stuff it," she growled, stiffening at his comment.

"Ah, but it's true, mudblood."

Amazingly, Hermione was able to keep her calm mask in place. "You don't know what really happened, so sod off."

"Maybe I should," he said nastily, taking a step towards her.

"Maybe, if you know what's good for yourself, you should just go leave me alone," she said coldly, fingering her wand in her robes pocket. Panic was beginning to rise in her chest as her thoughts careened wildly from Eric, the rape, Jenny, Jamie, and then Malfoy, who was advancing on her.

"Or maybe," he drawled, "I should teach you a lesson."

"Go to hell." A dull pain flashed across her stomach for a brief second and then was gone.

"I think not."

Hermione pulled her wand out, aimed it at Malfoy -

"'Ermione!" called Hagrid's disapproving voice from behind her. "You shouldn't be dueling, you know that."

"H-hagrid," she stammered, relief washing over her. "I-"

"Oh, I see," he growled, seeing Draco standing with his wand drawn as well and piecing together what had almost happened. "Mr. Malfoy, that's an hour of detention for you - attacking Ms. Granger." Contempt for Draco was evident in his voice.

Glaring angrily, he stalked off towards the castle, muttering about mudbloods and oafs.

"Are yeh alright, Hermione?" Hagrid asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said a little shakily.

"'Ere, come inside," he offered, "an' have a cup o' tea."

"Thanks," she said gratefully.

The two talked for some time about her classes, Harry and Ron, Ginny, Hogsmeade, Hagrid's garden, and several other things before Hagrid asked the question she had hoped he wouldn't bring up.

"An' how's li'l Jamie doin'?" Hagrid asked, sipping his fifth cup of tea, his warm dark eyes watching her face.

"She's fine," Hermione answered stiffly, not wanting to talk about it. "I really have to go, Hagrid. It's getting dark and all."

"O' course," he said, blushing deeply as got up and walked her to the door where she turned down his offer to walk her back to the castle.

As Hermione headed back for the castle, a sharp pain stabbed her side. She glanced down, eyes wide, expecting to see a knife or something of the sort, but there was nothing. It was then that she knew what the pains she had been feeling since her confrontation with Draco were and she became rather anxious, walking more briskly to the castle. Somewhere behind her a twig snapped, but she didn't think very much of it; she was more worried about finding Madam Pomfrey.

She jumped suddenly as a cold hand covered her mouth and an arm wrapped its way around her right above her enlarged stomach. She knew even before he spoke who it was who had her.

"Long time since I've seen you, Granger," Eric whispered as he drug her away from Hagrid's hut and towards the forest, staying well out of the glow of lights.

Her mind frozen in fear, Hermione watched him throw a black cloak around them and put a silencing charm on it. Thinking rapidly, she bit down as hard as she could on his hand, tasting the satisfying taste of blood on her tongue. He screeched in pain, but no one outside of the cloak would hear it.

"You bitch!" he screamed, bringing his arm away from her mouth and wrapping his arm around her neck in a choke hold with her chin in his elbow. "Unless you have a death wish, stop it right now."

It seemed odd to Hermione that the last time she had been in this situation she had been scared to death of Eric, but this time along with being afraid she was madder than hell at him. Of course, this time she had every damn reason to be mad at him - look at what he'd done to her!

"You bloody bastard," she gasped, trying to kick him in the groin. "You bastard!"

"Really?" Although she couldn't see his face she cloud hear the amusement in his voice. "That's all? I'm just a bastard?"

"No," she struggled, "there just aren't words to describe you!"

"You know, I could actually feel sorry for you."

"I don't need your fucking sympathy!"

"Oh, yes, you might if you want to live."

"For what?" she hissed, eyes afire. "What do I have to live for?"

"What, you really want a list?" Now he sounded even more amused.

Silence.

"Alright," he said as he forced her onto a broomstick connected to one he was mounting by a thick steel chain, "I will. How about the twins?"

"The ones you forced on me? I don't want them." Her voice was filled with anger and resentment, surprising even her.

"Harry Potter."

Silence.

"Ginerva Weasley." He said the name with an emotion Hermione could almost have mistooken for regret if she hadn't known him better.

"What the bloody hell did you do to her?"

"Use your imagination."

"No, tell me what you did to her, you jackass." Hermione shivered as the cold night air rushed over and about her as the brooms climbed higher in the night sky.

"Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?" she countered.

"Alright, I tortured and raped her." He said it as if he had said he tickled her and gave her a candy bar.

"You sick, perverted old bastard," she hissed, throwing him a look of pure hate. "Why?"

"Shouldn't it be clear? I'm surprised. With as smart as you are surely you can figure it out," he countered, smiling maliciously.

Hermione glared hatred at him. "Voldemort." She surprised herself by saying his name as well as Eric.

"Correct."

"It doesn't explain why." Her brown eyes gleamed angrily like hazel steel.

"Do you really think he can produce his own heir after what Potter did to him?"

Realization dawned on Hermione as if she had been doused in an ice-cold bucket of water. It couldn't be! It was then that the hate finally left Hermione for her girls. Maternal instince kicked in and a fierce protectiveness took its place in her heart.

"No." It was not shock, it was determination. "You can't have the girls."

"Why would the Dark Lord want a _girl_ for an heir? No, he will have a male heir," stated Eric coldly as they began to descend. Changing the subject he said, "Hasn't anyone asked why you always wear long sleeves?"

"No," was all Hermione said, letting the conversation die.

As they came closer to the ground Hermione could make out the dark shapes of the tree tops. They loomed closer and closer and just when she thought they were sure to crash into them, Eric swerved to glide down between two trees. They landed on a soft, pine needle-covered forest floor with the full moon shining down on them. Hermione instinctively reacher for her wand before gasping quietly as she found her pocket to be empty.

_'It must have fallen out of my pocket!'_ she thought in anguish.

"So, now I have you in my control yet again," sneered Eric as he turned on his heel to face her.

"Fuck you- ah!" cried Hermione as she doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach with both hands.

Eric watched her, seemingly impassive and uncaring. He walked quickly over to her, grabbed her right arm, and forced her wrist into a thick, heavy bracelet of steel. He fastened the chain attached to it around a sturdy tree behind her and back to the bracelet so she couldn't move her hand, effectively trapping her onto her back. Tears streamed down her face as she realized he wasn't allowing her to escape and that she was going to have to deliver her baby on her own, without Pomfrey or Harry's help. What if she couldn't do it? What if Jamie would need medical help?

Eric, meanwhile had walked off quite a ways so he couldn't hear Granger's cries. He was lost in his guilty thoughts about what he had done to the Weasley girl...

_**WARNING:**_** Rape scene coming up. If you don't want to read it, stop reading here and skip to the next chapter. ****You ****have**** been**** warned.**

_-.-.-.-.-.- The redhead turned back towards him and he was surprised not to see her spitting fire at him like some sort of a dragon. _

_"What do you want with me? Who are you?" her brown eyes flashed angrily. There was no trace of the fear Granger had shown, although Weasley was younger than Granger had been._

_"What I want with you will be clear soon enough," he stated, advancing on her. "And you already know me. However, I'll give you a hint; Eric."_

_"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" Ginny screamed, moving a few steps towards him. "You had NO right to do that to her!"_

_"Maybe you're right," he said, shrugging as if it didn't matter. "What I find interesting is that you're more upset about Granger than yourself."_

_"You had no goddamn right!" she screamed._

_"I already said maybe you are right." As he said this, he grabbed a hold of her and she bit him. Hard._

_"You bitch!" he roared, raising his arm and smacking her soundly upside her head. Her eyes widened for a moment before her expression turned to determination. She surprised the Death Eater by no uttering a sound. With a wave of his black wand her outer garments disappeared, leaving her in only her stockings, panties, and bra, all of which were white. Overpowering the young teen he grabbed her wrists, tied a coarse brown rope around them, and then secured her hands to the bedposts, leaving the rest of her virtually alone for the moment as he stripped himself of his clothing. _

_Turning back towards her, he placed a silencing charm on her and lay down next to the upset girl, fondling her pert breasts as he grew hard. She fought him and struggled despite the rope biting and tearing into her tender wrists. He grinned as he saw blood begin to run down her bare arms and tears run down her cheeks flush with anger. He outright laughed at her and pinned her right leg underneath his right. He caught her left leg as well, moving into position as she fought him as hard as she possibly could with her arm bound. One of her legs slipped from beneath him and she brought her knee up, trying to knee him, but he caught her before she could cause him any pain._

_"Nice try, whore," he said, laughing again at her futile attempts to cause him pain._

_Grasping her tightly by her hips he forced her down with one hand while sliding twp fingers into her from his other hand. He smiled darkly at her._

_"Do you like that, my little slut?"_

_Without warning he suddenly thrust quickly and painfully into her, her mouth open wide in a silent scream as he tore her open, slamming violently back into her after every thrust, not allowing her time to adjust. He didn't do anything to try to alleviate some of the pain, instead he just inflicted more on her. Her eyes widened with a desperate look as her body betrayed her, back arching as she came. He groaned as he followed her, panting wildly. He grinned wickedly as he regained his breath and strength. Pulling out of her, he reached across her limp form to the bed stand where he flipped open a blade with a wicked-looking blade. _

_By now the teen had passed out from pain and fear. He caught up her right wrist and carved a chain of x's into her pale wrist which turned red as blood welled up to fill the wounds. He did this clear around her wrist until he had carved a permanant bracelet into her, until he had branded her with his mark, the same as Granger's. -.-.-.-.-.-_


	10. UPDATE and Author's Note

UPDATE: Chapter 10 is on it's way, I promise. I'm trying to let everyone know it will be up within 2 weeks, guaranteed. I ran into some problems and my own, real life is a bit messed up right now. Another thing to watch for around December of 2008 or so is Wolven Knights: Journey to Redemption. It's a fictional story that will hopefully be published by December to February. There will be another update about that on my profile shortly. Also, for anyone who wants to know, my friend I mentioned earlier that was raped had her little girl and they're both doing fine. Be watching for chapter 10. I will warn you, WIJL is taking a whole new turn from here on out compared to the original. It's not a bad thing, necessarily, but it will be more realistic and parallel my real life a little closer.

Later,

Bridget


	11. Rescue Me

**Chapter 10: **_**Rescue Me**_

Forgiveness...Hermione wanted it so badly. She wanted forgiveness from her daughter, to be forgiven for the awful way she had neglected her. She wondered if perhaps it was already too late to fight for her little girl.

Another one of those painful contractions hit her just then. Groaning and wincing in pain, she rolled over and opened her eyes. Something about this place..._'It's wrong...where are the trees?'_ It wasn't making sense to her in the least - she wasn't where she had been, that much was for sure. But if she wasn't in the forest, where _was_ she?

Or better yet, where had Eric taken her?

"Ah, Granger, you're awake."

It was a statement, nothing more and nothing less. But who had said it? It was a male, but what male? It was certainly not Harry who had spoken those words...

"What, you don't remember me?"

Ah. Now she knew: Eric. Her foggy, pain-filled mind has finally placed that harsh, distant voice she knew and hated so much.

"No, I only wish I didn't, you sick son-of-a-bitch," she spat at him, rage barely concealed in her eyes. "Where in hell am I?" She barely got those words out before she was biting back an anguished cry of pain.

"Hell? No, Granger. You are nowhere _near_ hell. Yet." That cold, detatched voice...

"Well than where the bloody hell am I?"

"I already told you you aren' t in hell." He now entered her lin of sight, smirking slightly. There was also a touch of exasperation in his voice as well as amusement. "To answer your question-"

Those white walls...grey tiles flooring...so familiar...

"St. Mungos," she whispered, feeling as if she had been doused in ice water. "But why here?"

"One as _smart_ as yourself," he leered, "should be able to figure that much out - you're in labour."

"Really. I never would have guessed," she panted as an onslaught of pain hit her like a sledge hammer.

"But I suppose you want to know why I brought you here, don't you?"

"Yeah, I just _might_," Hermione replied through gritted teeth as she glared at him.

"Well, that's my parental right," he stated, obviously enjoying his game.

"What the bloody hell! You are **not** my father!" she said coldly, gasping and doubling over yet again. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't buy that bullshit from you or anyone else. I know who my father is."

"Do you really, Granger? Do you know who, or rather, what, your dear mother really is?"

"Shut up, just shut up. I'm not in the bloody mood for your sick, twisted games, Hanson."

"Father," he corrected gleefully before disappearing out the door and down the hall.

"Oh, fuck you and have a shit-filled day," she whispered angrily under her breath.

_That's my parental right...Do you know what your mother really is..._

What had he meant? Of course she knew her mother was a muggle, but...something wasn't clicking into place just yet. With a groan, Hermione fell back against her pillows, panting slightly. She was exhasted, fed up, worn down, and totally beaten. Then a thought hit her: Rachael. Wearily she flagged down one of the passing attendants and requesed that Rachael be directed to her room, as requested by Hermione Granger.

Minutes ticked by in slow succession as she waited, hoping against hope that she would soon be rescued. Her ears strained for the slightest squeak of a shoe agains a floor tile of the click of some's shoes on the cold, grey marble. Finally she heard the door to her room open hesitantly.

"Hermione?" Rachael said softly. "Hey, what are you doing back here, kiddo?"

"Damned if I know," Hermione answered, opening her eyes and looking towards her friend. "But what I do know is I need your help."

"What for?" the nurse said, glancing nervously about the room. "Just so you know, this place is virtually controlled by Death Eaters, so I'm rather limited as to what I can do."

"I need you to send a letter," the teen gasped, wincing with pain. As it passed, she continueud, "I need you to send a letter to Dumbledore and let him know I'm here. Rachael, Hanson's going to kill me."

Rachael paled and her vividly pink hair turned almost white. "You don't seriously think-"

"Yes, yes I do," Hermione cut in, gritting her teeth against the pain. She could feel her exhaustion swept away as she got her "second wind" and alertness taking its place. "He's only after my daughter, but he doesn't yet know Jamie's a she. He thinks Jamie is a boy, an heir for Lord Voldemort. It's a long story, but Voldemort can't have his own children. Therefore he gave Hanson, who's his second in command and pratically his own son, the job of producing an heir for him - once Jamie's born, he'll kill us both because we'll both be useless to him."

The healer looked frightened as she said, "But surely he won't do that - he could always try again, couldn't he? I mean, that's no real comfort for you, but..." She shrugged her shoulders, looking lost.

"He already has," Hermione said gently, her hazel eyes shimmering with unfallen tears. "He raped one of my friends, but no one knows where she is-"

"Then how do you know she was raped if no one knows where she is?" The eccentric healer asked in puzzlement.

"Because Hanson said so - he was bragging about it." Hermione's breathing was becoming more ragged as time went on and the pain worsened.

"And you believe him?"

"About that? Yes, yes I do."

The whole time they had been talking, Rachael had been prepping for the baby. Towels were laid out and her bed had been transformed from a labour bed to a delivery bed. She left the room abruptly then, leaving Hermione to wonder why she had gone. A moment later, the healer returned, flagged by one of the hospital's birthing teams.

"Aren't you part of the team?" Hermione asked Rachael as four other healers took her place.

Rachael gave her a quick look before moving closer to her head and saying, "No, I'm just prenatel and prep; I don't do any of the deliveries."

Hermione didn't answer her as another contraction hit her, making her cry out in pain. In her pain she could have sworn she saw Dumbedore...then she blacked out.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

When Hermione came around, she was somewhere else...again. Rachael was on one side of her and Pomfrey was on the other. The lighting in the room she was now in wasn't as harsh as the one in her room at St. Mungos.

"I told you it was dangerous to move them!" snapped Pomfrey as she attended to Hermione.

"What other choice did we have?" asked Rachael, her forehead wrinkling with an aggravated frown.

"Poppy," came Dumbledore's voice, "neither she nor her daughter were safe safe at St. Mungos, you know that. Eric would have killed all three of them."

"Well you may have succeeded in killing the twins," Pomfrey snapped irritably. "Jennifer was weak to begin with and Jamie was at a rather delicate stage in her birth. At the very least, you've prolonged labour for poor Ms. Granger."

"Hey, how're you doing, Mione?" came the quiet voice she'd been longing to hear.

"Harry!" she exclaimed weakly, lifting her head a couple inches off her pillow to get a better view of him. She was somewhat surprised to see her first-born daughter lying in his arms. Yes, she was still undersized.

"Where am I? she asked groggily, closing her eyes to clear to fog from her vision.

"You're back at Hogwarts, the Hospital Wing, to be exact."

"What about-" Hermione's question was cut off mid-sentence as an especially strong contraction ripped its way through her. She grabbed Harry's hand, her eyes pleading. "Don't leave me!" she gasped, crying out as the pain hit its peak. Tears of fear streamed down her face as Rachael came running, closely followed by Madame Pomfrey.

"Hermione, are you okay?" she asked, worry filling her voice.

"Yeah," she said weakly, trying to fight back the tears.

Pomfrey said nothing as she did a quick check on Hermione's progress. "Another few good pushes and you'll have your daughter in your arms," Pomfrey encouraged.

"Come on, you can do it," Rachael encouraged, giving Hermione a gentle hug across her shoulders.

The young witch bit back a scream of agony and pushed with what little strength she had left, finally delivering her daughter's head. Pomfrey gently manuevered Jamie's shoulders and with a final push from Hermione, the baby made her first statement to the world:

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" she shrieked, flailing her small legs and hands. "WAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAAAA!"

Hermione, too exhausted to do anything but lay there and watch her second born, let Harry hold her, thus reuniting the twins. Surprisingly, upon being snuggled up next to her twin again, Jamie went silent, watching those around her with great interest.

She looked up and met Harry's bright green eyes with her own blue pair, instantly melting his heart. _'So this is my other daughter,'_ he thought, cuddling her against him. Perhaps she had been fathered by another man, but Harry knew that this was his daughter. _'Mine and Hermione's,'_ he thought with a touch of pride.

Leaning over to plant a tender kiss on Hermione's cheek, Harry whispered into her ear, "I won't ever leave you. I love you."

"I know you do," Hermione whispered back, reaching for the twins. "You better."


End file.
